One Last Thing ✅

sixty-one things

Physics is my last class of the day.

Wearily, I slump into the room and find my seat in the back. I'm one of the last ones to be seated. Rose Evans glares at me from the front of the room, then turns around haughtily, opens her notebook, and starts copying down some stuff from the board. I open my own notebook and do the same.

PE = m X g X h

I stare at the letters until they start to bleed together. The sad part is the blurred notes make about as much sense to me as they did before my eyes started to cross. The bell rings, and I shake my head and look to the front of the room, where Mr. Conrad is standing, cradling an odd little white ball.

"I thought we'd start class with something a little different," he says excitedly. "Now, granted, this is a little elementary, but I picked up this energy ball over the weekend and I'm so excited to try it out."

Mr. Conrad's face is flushed red. He passes the ball from hand to hand as he speaks. Everyone looks at each other, probably wondering, as I am, what exactly an energy ball is for.

"Everyone get up," Mr. Conrad urges, taking a step back. "Stand around the room in a big circle."

For a moment no one moves, but then Rose pushes back her seat and stands. The rest of us follow. There is a moment of chaos as everyone weaves to the outskirts of the classroom, trying to fit somewhere along the perimeter. There are too many of us.

Somehow I end up standing next to Rose. She stares at Mr. Conrad, ignoring me, her mouth a thin, straight line. I follow her lead and stare at the teacher, waiting for further directions.

"Okay, this is really so cool," Mr. Conrad says. His enthusiasm is really sort of cute. The ends of his dark mustache are curled a little, making him look like a villain crossed with a science nerd. He holds the white ball out in front of him. "Observe. Nothing special about this little ball, right?"

I stare at the ball. It certainly doesn't look like anything special, just a variation of the kind of ball you might use for ping pong. The only difference is the little metal tabs on either side of it, almost unnoticeable unless you're staring directly at it.

"Everybody grab hands," Mr. Conrad says, sweeping his hand in our direction. No one moves. There's an uncomfortable silence for a split second as we all absorb this order.

It's not normal to have to touch each another in school. The only time I've held a stranger's hand has been in church, and I always hate it because my hand gets all sweaty and I worried the person will think I'm a swamp monster or something. I glance at Rose in horror, realizing that I will have to touch her hand. She must have the same thought because she's giving me the same look.

"Oh, come on, don't be shy. I've got hand sanitizer if it's that big of a deal. No one in here has the plague, I can promise you that," Mr. Conrad urges.

Slowly, the other kids begin to join hands. Rose and I are the last ones to hold out. Mr. Conrad looks around the room, spots us awkwardly standing next to each other, avoiding eye contact.

"Come on, girls," he says.

Rose sighs heavily and grabs my hand, almost violently. Her palm is cold and clammy. I wonder how mine feels to her. Can she feel me shivering with trepidation? Does the shaking of my hand reveal how completely vulnerable I feel, exposed to my enemy like this? After all, she is the one who confirmed what I so deeply feared about myself—that I'm nothing but a killer.

Mr. Conrad takes a step backward and stands between two kids across the room. "Okay," he says. "Now each one of you touch one of the metal tabs on the side." The girl to his right reaches out and touches one with her index finger. The boy two his left does the same.

And then something magical happens.

The ball starts to glow a brilliant green. It emits this high-pitched sound, trembling and beautiful. It reminds me of Riley's voice in a weird way.

"Isn't that magnificent," Mr. Conrad breathes. "You see, we've formed a circuit. This electricity is passing through all of you right now. In order to make the light shine, each one of you has to be a part of the circle. If one of you lets go..." He pauses. "Rose, let go of Liliana's hand."

She does so.

The light goes out.

"See, the chain was broken," Mr. Conrad says. "Join hands again."

Reluctantly, Rose takes my hand once more.

Again, the light shines.

"That's the connection," Mr. Conrad says. "Isn't it beautiful?"

I sneak a look at Rose.

The hateful expression has faded, just a bit, replaced with something else, something I'm not sure I can identify. She turns her head and catches my eye, then her eyes flicker downward, to our joined hands.

After this demonstration, Mr. Conrad has us go back to our desks, but I can't concentrate on the lecture. I keep thinking about that light and how it wouldn't go on unless everyone was hanging on to one another. It makes me think about how close I came to letting go, not of Rose's hand, but of everyone's hands. When I sliced myself open, I was breaking my connection with the whole world.

And I start to wonder if it's possible that there's something I'm meant to do on this planet, something I'm supposed to contribute, a reason for me to not stop holding on, even if it means holding hands with someone who hates me. Maybe that's why I wasn't successful. Perhaps I do have a purpose.